What Have We Done
by RandomFavoriteCouples
Summary: That's it, America has finally gone over the brink when England visits him and it all started going downhill because of what England said to America. America ends up in the hospital warn down beyond compare but won't let anyone else expect for Prussia Germany N.Itlay and Japan see him in his weakened state. Story is better I promise and many pairings Rated T for Romano mouth


**Authors Note: I have read many angst America and England but most of it seems to be of America making fun of England but what happens when England is the one hurting America and why is there not many stories that talk about America's magic, he was raised by England and has his tribal magic in him don't you think! Anyway begin the story and please read and review.**

**Disclaimer: I do not owe Hetalia sadly but what is done is done**

**Summary: England finally snapped at America, so what happens when America does as he told and quits coming to the meetings and Canada can't get a hold of him? What adventures await the other countries as they try to figure out what has happened to America and what are his secrets? **

**Pairings: USUK GerIta Spamaro, France/Canada/Prussia Giripan, Rochu**

Chapter 1 ~ What Hurts the Most

A nineteen year old boy slowly made his way to the bathroom, his tanned feet dragged across the white floor, his American flag boxers stopped some of the impact from the floor has he fell to his knees, his once strong looking chest was now of skin, bone, and deep scars that ran across his skin, hell if you wanted to run your fingers up his chest you can count every bone in his ribcage, his tanned face now sulked was over top of the toilet bowl and throwing up what seemed like an apple, bile, but mostly blood, tears fell from what used to be bright shiny blue eyes but are now dark, lifeless, and cold eyes, he put his wireless glasses on top of the sink, his oily wheat-colored hair drooped around his face even the strand that usually stay straight up was drooped slightly.

Inside his head, the names he's been called kept repeating themselves over and over, they kept getting louder and louder to where it was the point that he didn't hear his phone ring.

A Chinese voice spoke up first in his mind, "Fatass America aru, can never do anything right." The American had grabbed a razor and started retracing old scars on his wrist reopening them,

Next came a French voice which was snickering while saying "How can you afford so much McDonald's when your country is so far into debt." A new scar appeared on his wrist watching the blood pooled around him.

A Russian voice that held a childlike charm spoke up in his mind, "Stupid hamburger capitalist, I'm surprised that your currency isn't hamburgers, da. Or wait you would have none of the currency because you'll eat them all." He leant his head back against the sink before getting up slowly to start the water for a shower not knowing his phone was vibrating downstairs.

The last voice that rang inside his head brought along new batch of tears that was quickly hid by the warm shower, the voice of a British accent as it yelled extremely loudly inside his head, "Bloody git! Why don't you understand the bloody fact that your ideals are worthless and that no one agrees with you! Why don't you just quit showing up to the meetings are together and disappear since you seem to love wasting everyone's bloody time you bloody twat!"

The American while washing his hair could've sworn he heard a quiet Canadian voice saying stupid arrogant bastard but he couldn't be sure. But he did know there were three people who haven't said a mean thing to him, Germany, Italy, and Japan. He started laughing at this, "Funny how the Axis members are now the only ones I can rely on, not a single member of the Allies and all I tried to do was help,"

He finished his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist and went downstairs to check his cell phone to see any message which he did have one voicemail which he played while he carried it upstairs to clean up the bloody mess he made. The voicemail came from England, the one voice that has caused him so much pain, "Hey America, this is England and I'm coming over. You bloody git, you haven't been coming to any of the meetings for a while and haven't contacted us which is weird but I know your not dead. You've been communicating with Germany for some strange reason but he says you won't listen to him, I guess I raised you right in at least one aspect, you stupid ungrateful git. I'm at the bloody airport trying to avoid the bloody frog and I swear if your there inside your home eating that junk from McDonald's you call food and playing video games I will bloody will slap you to the meeting room that happens to be in your country this week which is a shame considering if I do slap you I would prefer it to be in the country of Spain since that might knock some more sense into your thick skull."

The signal ended just as America got done cleaning his bathroom still wrapped up in a towel with his scars that he made himself still bleeding. He heard knocking on the door and went downstairs to answer the door without even caring who saw him, he can easily put on an illusion of the bright and cheerful self and boom no one would ask any questions. He opened the door only to get knocked in the face a couple of times almost knocking his glasses off before the visitor finally stopped and stared at America.

The visitor was about as tall as America's shoulder, his bright blonde hair was all over the place giving people the expression that it was bed hair when in honestly that's just how it looks like, his thick eyebrows was overshadowed by bright emerald eyes that were widened in shock and America could've sworn there was worried in the eyes but thought that impossible, his fare skin was hidden by an olive green jacket that was buttoned up the first two buttons on the bottom showing a white undershirt that was possibly tucked into the olive green pants with a green tie, his pants were tucked into black military boots that was next to a brown briefcase and a slightly larger suitcase.

'England,' America thought as he leaned against the doorway casually waiting for the man in front to say something, 'No point in disguising myself, he'll see right through it in the first place.' America sighed outwardly, "Hello England, to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing the great and mighty British Empire here in front of my humble home?"

"What the bloody hell happened to you America?" He went out to touch America's arm before America grabbed his hand and pushed it back against its owner, "America you bloody git! Your arm is covered in blood, your look like you picked you a fight with someone, you ignored my phone calls, haven't been showing up to meetings, and your dressed up in a bloody towel while greeting the door!?" England started to shout.

"I'm dressed up in a towel because I got out of the shower England," America replied evenly looking into England's eyes and smirked mentally noticing that England had flinched under his stare, "And to answer the main reason why I haven't gone to the meetings, I believed I have grown up and came to the fact that my ideas are nothing more but mere fantasies of a simple-minded child and to help everyone save time I decided to give up on showing up to the meetings because my ideas are worthless and that no one will agree to them." America stepped back in the house and grabbed the door, "Now if you will excuse me, I have some work that needs done and I don't need someone telling me what to do over my shoulder." He shut the door and locked the door before going upstairs to put on a long sleeved shirt and blue jeans. He looked at a black knife that was on his bedside table, the handle was pretty ornate with the blade black with dark red which suggested to be dried blood , and next to the knife was an equally dark book. He ran his finger over the book and knife and thought 'Soon, soon this nightmare will end won't it?'

England was banging on the door again this time yelling out, "America opened the door, the stupid Frog is here as well and I need to hide away from him."

America opened the door and sent an evil and cold glare, a glare that England was sure to send at least Russia and Belarus running away tenfold, his voice was cold and unforgiving, "Is that all I am to you England? Just a hiding spot for France, if so do you know what I wish? I wish that France would prefer every single sexual fantasy he has on you if I am nothing more but a hiding place for you or a bodyguard than your on your own now good day England and get the hell off of my yard or I swear I will fid my shotgun and shoot you with it."

America slammed the door shut again and went upstairs leaving England dumbfounded as he stood there, "America?" England asked more to himself. This wasn't the America that he knew. He started walking back to the street when he turned back around and saw America staring at him through a window. England had the nerve to go back and break the door down when an ox came in front of him and let out his growl before charging after him. England started running away as a flashback of Little America swinging an ox around in the air, he looked over his shoulder and the ox that was chasing him looked exactly the same as the one Little America. He ran across the street and the ox stopped at the end of the property and disappeared.

England growled, "Did I seriously run away from an ox, the great British Empire? I think not!" England started running towards the door and banged on it until it opened to see a ticked off America standing in front of the door. England wasn't going to back down this time, "America we need to talk about your behavior and about keeping a wild ox on the property." England's tone softened quite a bit and kept talking, "You haven't talked to Canada in a while and he's worried about you plus we need you back at the meetings." 'It's quite depressing without you' he thought afterwards.

England, on his pride as a gentleman, would never admit that he has strong emotional feelings on America. He released that he loved his ex-colony when the Pict invasion was going and it finally came to him in front of his face when he got hit and started becoming one of them. The feel that he wasn't there to protect him unlike all the times America has protected him, it tore his heart into two. He needed to see America at the meetings again, he needed to see that annoying but contagious smile of his.

America said snidely. "Your lucky today is my semi-half day off England considering on how much you came here all within twenty minutes. Canada's worried about me? That's a joke if I ever heard of one, you old man."

"Semi-half day off?" England questioned.

"I'm a country too England," America responded, "I have paperwork that needs to get done as much as the next country."

"You work," England yelled getting mad, "You never have worked a single day in your life as a country! You are a worthless excuse as a country and bring shame upon all of us who are the countries! Your lying to me here while you eat cheeseburgers and play your dumb video games!"

America growled louder than before his voice full of acid, "You came here to insult me England, than go to a hotel and checked in and send the insults through a text, So take your suitcase and get the hell off my residence, it will be the benefit for both of us that way you won't have to put up with me anymore."

England went to a hotel thinking sadly as America, it took a lot of effort on American's side the Briton noticed, to get tossed out of the house, 'America, I'm sorry I came here to talk to you, to take care of you, to say I'm sorry, but all I did was make you hurt more than what you were in earlier.'

He looked at the time and smiled sadly as he got to the hotel, it was tea time and maybe some tea will help improve with his mood with a good book but he highly doubt it.


End file.
